Personal Savior
by writinchic
Summary: "Your heart though, it always belonged on the light side-his side." Light Drarry. Harry testifies at Draco's trial and the blonde finds himself turning to the boy-who-lived for comfort. Two-shot (Draco's POV... Harry's POV)
1. Draco

It's hard to stand here in the shadows and know that you can't show how you feel. You are lost and he is lost to you. You are nothing without him and he is everything without you. So you slink away from the smiling fan club that is fawning over his scar, over his success, over the Boy-Who-Lived, not over him. He blushes as witches call out their undying love and you wish you could make him blush like that. You chose your mother over your unrequited love. You wished your father dead but would willingly die for her. So you walked to her and chose her side. Just for her. Your heart though, it always belonged to the light side—his side. You could spin a story of the ruse you pulled so your mother could save him. She told you what happened in the forest. You could free yourself of any punishment; you could, but you don't. You can't lie to him, so you don't lie to his side.

Lost in your thoughts you don't see the aurors walk up to you and before you know it you are in a holding cell, waiting for your trial. Your mother has already been tried. They send you a letter with her sentence. She only has two years in a now-dementor-free Azkaban. The reason for her relaxed punishment: Harry Potter testified on her behalf. Harry Potter said she saved his life, so he saved her. And then the hope you haven't dared to think on is foremost in your mind. He saved her, he could save you. You try not to hope, because if he isn't at the trial you may crumble under the rejection and despair.

You find yourself walking towards the Wizengamot and a grotesquely ornate chair is waiting for you. They lock your arms down and you sneer at them. Not even the threat of Azkaban can keep you from showing your disdain. They call out for any witnesses for the accused to come forward and you look around despondently. Severus would help but he was dead; you are alone.

You hear a collective gasp as the doors bang open. You turn your head and your eyes catch first the messy, black, hair, then the lightning bolt scar, the black glasses framing determined, emerald, eyes and finally the grim smile of the savior. He states his name and you snort, everyone knows his name already.

You show them your mark; you admit your crimes. He looks at you and smiles before praising your few good acts and spinning you into a pitiable boy trying to keep himself and his mother safe. You barely realize you have been released. You just walk towards your savior and put your arms around him; you are crying. He holds you and walks you out of the trial. The familiar feeling of side-along apparition takes you to a horribly decorated parlor. You don't even bother to look around when he pulls you to a sofa, you just sit down. You are crying and he is holding you, you look into his emerald eyes and realize that he is crying too.

You watch in silent, fraudulent slumber as he accio's a blanket and drapes it over you both. You hear him whisper the name of someone called Kreacher and a house elf appears. The whispered conversation between the two evades you so you fake waking up. He turns and smiles at you before asking how you feel. Your cheeks heat up as you think about your breakdown and you look to the floor sneering. His laughter shocks you into looking up and he is talking about how keeping up appearances isn't important around him.

You just sit there and watch Kreacher set two steaming mugs of hot chocolate on the table. You take one at his insistence and take a calming sip before asking why he witnessed at the trials. He looks at you oddly and you remind him that he hates you. I only hate Malfoy, he responds. He tells you that Narcissa and Draco are just fine with him. He awkwardly mentions that he let the dementors have Lucius and you smile. You tell him that the man was no longer your father and you are glad he's gone.

You thank him for protecting your mother as much as possible and ask again why helped you. He looks into your eyes and tells you why. He says that he loves you and then his lips are on yours. You know that there is so much for you to apologize for but you let yourself relax into him. You let yourself kiss him with the love that you have built up the last seven years. You smile on his lips because he saved you.


	2. Harry

You used to evade the reporters and photographers but they would find sneakier ways to get the information. So now you let them wring you dry of every detail and you let the witches profess their love and you let the fan club fawn over you. You have no choice; you are their savior.

You continue life in a confused fog; life seems to have no purpose now that the world is free of Voldemort. You are drifting along until one night Mr. Weasley mentions the Malfoy trials. You are spurred into action and declare your intention to bear witness at the trials. Incredulous silence meets your statement and Ginny glares at you until you explain that you are not helping the Malfoy's. You are helping Narcissa and Draco, both of who saved your life. They still don't understand, but at least they aren't denying you the chance.

Narcissa's trial is first. You tell the Wizengamot that she saved your life and thus saved all of them. They argue that she used unforgivable; you compromise on a two-year stay in Azkaban. She smiles at you kindly and you incline your head towards her as they lead her away. You promise yourself you will do more for Draco.

The day arrives for his trial and you are delayed by a pesky reporter bashing you for helping Death Eaters. They are about to try him without witnesses when you arrive. They all gasp, but they shouldn't. If you helped her, why wouldn't you help him? You tell the story of his life in the way you have honestly seen it. He was pushed into the service of a madman and did questionable things to keep himself and his mother alive. You tell them that he also saved your life, that day in Malfoy Manor, and remind them that this means he saved them all as well. You feel incredulity rolling off of him in waves and you know he thinks this is all a carefully spun web of truth and lies. You laugh at him in your mind, it is all the truth.

He is set free, no charges whatsoever. You look at him with a smile on your face holding your hands out to congratulate him but find yourself holding the blonde boy as he cries into your shoulder. You know that he would never want them to see his emotions so you pull him out of the chamber and apparate home.

You are living at Grimmauld Place with Ron and Hermione but right now you are just glad that they are spending the night at the burrow. You pull him on to the sofa and he cries into your shoulder, curling up against your body. The closeness is what you have longed for and your chest feels warm. He is shivering now, so you accio a blanket and drape it over you both.

You call Kreacher and tell him why Young Master Malfoy—it's Draco not Malfoy, you say—is here and then you ask for Hot Chocolate. He wakes up and you turn towards him with a smile; you ask him how he feels. You see his cheeks go red and he looks down with his typical sneer. You laugh at his attempt to be cold towards you, it really is pitiful. You tell him that he doesn't have to be emotionless around you, that Gryffindors don't know how to take advantage of others' emotions.

You make him drink the Hot Chocolate and are glad for its calming properties when he asks you why you were at the trials. He reminds you that you hate him and you long to tell him how utterly wrong he is. You explain what you explained to the Weasleys about the difference between Draco and Malfoy. Obligation takes over and you feel the need to tell him how you made sure Lucius was given the dementors kiss before those creatures were sent away from Azkaban. He smiles softly and tells you that it doesn't matter to him. He thanks you for his mother's safety and you feel guilty for not keeping her out of Azkaban entirely.

He asks you again why you helped him. This is the moment you have been waiting seven years for; you tell him you love him. You don't wait for his response; your lips brush against his and your heart explodes. You realize then, that while you never wanted to be the Savior-of-the-World, you always wanted to be his personal savior.


End file.
